I am a (Red) Star (with bonus WIP News)

I've been an eBay jockey longer than I've been a writer--although not as consistantly.  It's not a "business" model that I can sustain because I tend to buy as much (or more) than I sell. My favorite? Star Wars Legos (highly collectable and damn cute).

I received a nice note in my email inbox stating I've received my red star, denoting a positive feedback score over 1,000 (and 100% positive, too).  Pretty cool, actually. Those of you who might have read my flash story, "Enough", from Necrotic Tissue #13 will understand the obsession we eBayers have with our feedback scores.

What else am I working on?

Editing "No Good Deed" for publication (a novella of sorts) and putting some finishing touches on a story without a title. It involves obsession, too, as in the protagonist's father digs in the backyard for hours every night.

But in the morning everything seems fine.

Seems.

Ha.

WIP Wednesday: Slowing to a Trickle

Between Max's autoimmune issues, baby Elliot, and trying to wrangle Owen/my job/maintain a relationship with my wife... and other things, I haven't been writing as much as I'd like.

I have given a character a gun. Said character has decided to use the gun rather than call the police. See, he doesn't think the police will believe what he has to tell them (his wife might be held captive in a farmhouse/organized crime compound/possible religious cult). It doesn't help his case that it is three in the morning, he's covered in mud, blood, and cow shit, and a little high.

This could get interesting...

And it's all part of No Good Deed, a crime/thriller novella.

More soon.

WIP Wednesday: Long Live Serial Fiction

I'm writing about zombies.

Well, not exactly. I'm writing about people dealing with zombies and each other in a post-apocalyptic setting. I (almost) swore I never would, but, as Justin Bieber says, never say never.

Great Zeus, did I just reference Bieber?

I'll be releasing Dead Lands in three parts. If I still want to play in the world I've created, I have ideas for other books. 

Come back Friday for a the first chapter of the first installment, Pass the Ammunition. Until then, here's a teaser:

Back in high school, Mrs. Phelps made us do this little writing project about what kind of junk we’d grab if our house was on fire. She was an English teacher and older than both my folks put together. Even her wrinkles had wrinkles, but you won’t see anyone that old anymore. They can’t run fast enough. They can’t swing a bat or sledge hammer hard enough to crack a zombie’s skull. Most kids wrote down inane shit like family photos or their Chihuahua. I think I wrote about my brother’s Playboy collection. That was a different life.

WIP Wednesday: The Waiting Game

Aimee's due date was last Sunday (12/11/11).  So we are waiting.

And waiting.

And the longer we wait, the closer baby's birthday will be to Christmas, for which he/she will never forgive his/her parents (at least during the teen years).

In the mean time, I'm writing about zombies, but doing so on my terms:

Had I known I’d be shot in the back, I might have stayed in my bunk.

(Here's a dirty little secret: editors of small press mags might shy away from zombies, but the e-reading public sure doesn't.)

Booooks, booooks, booooks...

WIP Wednesday: Playing with Genre

I'm thankful to be home today and squeeze in a little writing time.  Of course extra time means extra thinking...

How do horror books sell?  Depends on how many zombies a book has...  Kidding, but seriously, I'm playing with genre on my WIP. Or I should say, playing in another genre. We'll see how it pans out.  I've put Reunion on hold for a book which had to be written, a thriller (what?!?) called Badlands. The first line:

Ryan enjoyed a breakfast of yogurt, granola, and fresh fruit before he returned to his room and found his son missing. 

Yeah, one of those kidnapping stories. There's going to be copious sex and violence, too. Maybe even an explosion. That is, if Ryan can't stop the explosion from happening. Hmmmm...

Hey... It works for Hollywood, right? 

Hope everyone is having a fantastic week.

WIP Wednesday: Stranger in a Strange Land

And no, I'm not referring to Robert Heinlein's 1961 science fiction novel.

Not NaNo-ing always makes me feel a bit "out of the loop". Many bloggers are deep in the NaNo muck, and I'm here, piddling away at a pace of 500-800 words a day on my new book.  Not a NaNo pace at all. Not at all.

Slow and steady wins the race? All right... but I didn't know I was in a race.

Speaking of strangers, here's a snippet of strangeness from what I'm tentatively calling Reunion:

“Hold on,” James said. “Where the hell did Carl go?” 

The three men faced each other and turned slowly, eyes scanning the rows of stone and dark fences of trees. James let his gaze drift past the grey ribbon of highway, K-15, which ran along the western edge of Greenwillow. No Carl. Plenty of darkness. A gust of hot summer breeze meandered through the cemetery. Late July brought temperatures near the century mark earlier that day, but James shivered.

Don't worry. Carl's fine.

For now.

WIP Wednesday: The Best Little Editing Book (Ever?)

I'm going through In the Memory House and purging unnecessary language. Not the f-bombs, oh no. Although I've been criticized before, if my characters need to vent, they need to vent.

I'm using suggestions from the late Ken Rand's book, The 10% Solution, to cull unnecessary words from the book.

The ctrl+F (find) feature is a writer's best friend. I've already made an adverb pass (searching for "ly").  I'm currently limiting "of"'s appearances. (I almost wrote "appearances of of"--see how it works?)

What editing tricks do you use to prepare your manuscripts?

WIP Wednesday: The Insidiousness of Memory

I'm making some revisions to In the Memory House, and as my intrepid protagonist finds her room, I realize my own memories have spilled onto the page.  Have you ever read "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Charlotte Perkins Gilman? You should. (It's rather creepy.)

I covered poor Kelsey's (the protag) room in yellow wallpaper.

The walls were hung with wallpaper—not a plain yellow, either. Upon closer inspection, she noted a subtle pattern of darker vertical lines, but the lines were made of a tiny, repeated shape. The shape reminded Kelsey of corn cobs. She was in the corn-cob room. Absurd. Her fingers touched the wall and found a slight texture, small bumps where the shapes rose from floor to ceiling. 

And as another character says:

“Yellow. Yech. It’s a rather mustardy shade, don’t you think?”

So there it is--my subconscious giving me details for a spooky room in a spookier house. Thanks Fred.

Have ever accidentally dropped details into a story from fragments of memory?

WIP Wednesday: How Did I Get Here?

My "House" novel, now going by the name In the Memory House is nearing first draft completion.  First draft completion doesn't mean much in my book. As a writer, I am a "pantser" for the most part, one of those free spirits wandering through the plot, dropping suspense and characterization along the way. The characters tend to reveal themselves better this way...

But then I have to pick up the pieces. My lead, a graduate student in psychology, has really shown me dark and secret corners of her life.

Now I have to go back and makes sure the early, more "private" chapters work.

From one of the final chapters:

Kelsey glanced once more at the door, took a breath, and plunged into the dark, groping with both hands now, reaching in front of her and to the sides to find the layout of the space. Her knuckles dragged against stone. She stopped, felt on both sides, and noted a rough, circular cavern. Her hands played with its boundaries. Behind her, the door had vanished, leaving no lingering ambient light. 

She found herself in a cave. She hadn't stepped inside a cave since she was eight.

What are some of your most-powerful childhood memories?

WIP Wednesday: Wednesday, Bloody Wednesday

I quizzed my students about horror yesterday as a lead in to our study of Beowulf. I asked them to list, and rank-order, the top five elements they expect to see in a horror movie or read in a story.

The answers were telling--and somewhat funny: sex, darkness, dark scenery, fornication, death, nudity, scary music, stupidity... One group even mentioned "creepy-ass-mofos".

Okay...

All but one group included blood as the first item on their list. This speaks to the kind of movies they're used to watching, doesn't it? Would their be no Saw XVII without blood? Can there be a true horror story without blood?

I think so. Some of the best horror doesn't even play in the realm of blood. My "not-quite-haunted house" WIP doesn't have (much) blood, and I've been scaring my own pants off for weeks.

We'll see how readers feel later this year.

WIP Wednesday: Second Lives

I wrote a little piece called "To Put Away Childish Things" a few years ago. It appeared in Kaleidotrope before the 'zine went digital, so I have a dead tree copy lying around somewhere. It's a strange little tale, but one which a reviewer mentioned seeing a novel based on the story's characters...

Well, I'm writing it. A novella, at least, one which I'm calling Skin Jobs (for now). But I'm starting where the story leaves us...

“That’s him?” Tag called over his shoulder. “That’s Santiago?”

The portly man stopped his climb and dabbed his forehead with a rag. “Yes. Hanging from the—”

“Cross.”

“Huh?” The fat man’s face twisted.

“It looks like a cross,” Tag said. “Somebody’s crucified the poor old bastard.” Tag started down the debris pile, his heavy synth boots crunching and cracking over loose scrap. His coat, long in the hem, flapped like black wings as his slow descent became a run.

Tag Deeken is a sort of detective. Think Future Noir.

What about the weird house story, Aaron? It's still there, incubating. Fred told me he needs some time to work on it.

Have a lovely day.

WIP Wednesday: Fear

From my current WIP, an as-yet unnamed supernatural "thriller" (in other words, a weird-ass horror book I hope might have a tiny bit of commercial appeal):

Following her up the stairs, Kelsey paused to ask, “so what are you afraid of, Erin?”

“Oh, me? The only thing which scares me is knowing too much.”

You see, Erin is the girl who has everything: looks, brains, a perfect California tan. Unfortunately, she's also psychic. Puts "knowing too much" in perspective, doesn't it? One member of their little group has already vanished, but it wasn't a member of the cast--no, the house, or whatever might be in the house, decided to start with the crew. Goodbye, sound man. It seems he had heart trouble, too. So sad.

Why don't they just leave if things are getting a bit out of hand? Good question. I asked myself the same thing while watching Paranormal Activity.

But I have several answers.

This is where things turn really "sour".

Stay tuned.

Infestations (A WIP Thursday...Sorry No Alliteration)

I'm obsessed with haunted houses.

No, not the Halloween theme spook houses, with genuine haunted houses (if such things exist). I've never been in one--as far as I know--but the idea fascinates me. Some of my favorite novels feature spooky houses--The Haunting of Hill House, Hell House, 'salem's Lot. Yes, I know the last one is about vampires, but the Marsten House certainly haunts the protag. The House of Leaves is an amazing book about--you guessed it--a bizarre house.

The House Eaters features a house--a semi/sort of haunted place. I've written stories about "places" with hauntings or "infestations". That's a good word for it, I suppose: infestation.

Here's the set up for my WIP:

Six people volunteer for a reality style show set in an old country house. The rules: they must stay inside for seven full days. No slipping out for a walk on the veranda or stroll through the garden. For their time, each will receive a minimum of $12K.

Four of them have been there before, but that time there were five. They sought shelter during a snowstorm (their van had landed in a ditch and there was no cell phone reception in the boonies).

The fifth member of their party disappeared in the house. The police, of course, theorized he wandered out into the snow to find help and never found any.

His body, of course, was never found.

But the four friends did find something else, upstairs in the house.

And I'm not telling what.

Yet.

WIP Wednesday: Now with words...

I'm posting to keep myself honest: for the past five days, I've wrenched myself from bed to write and averaged over a thousand words each day. Nothing groundbreaking, but this book isn't going to write itself.*

One of the characters, in fact the main character, is a young woman working on her PhD in psychology. Her area of study? Fear and anxiety.

There was nothing to fear. She was a God-damned expert.

But yet, in the quiet slumber of the house, a sound came to Kelsey. This sound crawled through the frame and walls, over the polished hardwood of the floors, and into the sheets and comforter on Kelsey’s bed. It whispered in her ears.

I’m here.

Come play with me.

Yes, ol' Aaron is writing about a house again. But this one isn't haunted--not in the traditional sense. Have I mentioned two cameramen follow our intrepid characters around? But this isn't a Ghost Hunters knock-off. Oh no. The cameras are more interested in the living. Sort of.

More soon. Take care.

*of course, now I'm away from home for a wedding, so we all no nothing will get done for the next several days. Sigh.

Yes, It's True: I am WIPing

My writing has come in "fits and spurts" this summer, but I am writing. I promise.

I've put my two longer projects (filed under "Secret Project Q" and "Secret Project W") for the time being, and am trying to finish a short I started at the beginning of the summer.

From "Story Set in Tibet Without a Name":

The passenger door squeaks as Dr. Stenner opens it and hops to the ground. He pulls the fur-lined neck of his coat closer to his chin. Bataar watches from the driver’s seat.

“Are you getting out?”

“Yes. Sorry.” Bataar pulls his hands away from the wheel. He is not only the American’s driver, but his translator as well. Uncle Chulunn has little English, and Bataar knows he’s needed. His boots crunch the hard steppe ground. The wind bites his cheeks. “This is my uncle’s place,” he says.

And good ol' Uncle Chuluun has some really "special" tapestries hanging on the walls of his yurt.

I'm also WIPing this in my basement, but it isn't writing:

I am WIP Wednesday

June was my least productive month since starting to write five years ago. I managed to squeeze out 12,000 words on a so-so novel. Maybe it's better than so-so. I did manage to sub one story (which is being "held for further consideration"). But as far as write 1 / sub 1... I'm a failure. I'm suffering from a severe case of the blahs right now.

Have you heard of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs? (here's the Wikipedia primer, if needed)

During the home remodel (and yes, it has spilled beyond the bathrooms), I feel stuck on level 2: safety.

Notice "creativity" falls under the top level.

*sigh*

My wife told me to go on sabbatical. I'm not going to do that. I love writing too much.

But for now, I'm going to spend a few hours on rebuilding my home.

How's the summer in your world?

WIP Wednesday: Money, Money, Money

Characters need motivation, right?

I've decided three of my VICs (very important characters) in my as-yet-untitled supernatural thriller need money. They aren't greedy people. No, not at all. One is a decorated military veteran who finds himself disabled and unable to pay his bills. One is a college drop-out, working her butt off in retail but she can't pay her medical bills (related to an eating disorder which was directly related to the central--and for now, secret--conflict of the book). The third is working on her PhD in psychology, but loses funding for her research. *sad face*

Every character needs a motivation.

These VICs are about to be visited by their guardian angel devil. (No, this is not the "supernatural" in "supernatural thriller". He isn't literally a devil.)

Let the games begin.

How's your WIP going?

WIP Wednesday: Doing the Right Thing

June has been icky so far. A bonafide pain in my ass (and other parts I've injured while home remodeling). I haven't been able to write enough to satisfy my inner demons. I have cuts and bruises on every limb of my body, including a pretty severe sprain of my left wrist. Along with my tanking output, I haven't had a good month in sales for my indie/self-pubbed work or traditional schtuff.

Boo-hoo.

Then I woke to an email from a reader. This particular reader took part in a LibraryThing giveaway for We are the Monsters. Among other things, dear reader said:

"I thought the language of the novel was amazing...Beautiful prose, dark river water imagery..."

Wow. That really fills one's tank.

I started a new novel, trying to write it "thriller style". The voice isn't coming--it's too much of a departure from what I am. I'm starting over. The reader's email reminded me of how I write best, even if it doesn't garner an obscene amount of sales. I have to do what's right.

I have to do what's right.

WIP Wednesday: Because Writers Write

I've cooled off after yesterday's tirade. I guess I'm just a little tired of all the flag waving. The image above is from a cover of The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane. One of the key scenes involves several standard bearers falling in battle until Henry, the protagonist, picks up the flag and leads his unit to victory. So much death just to keep a flag flying.

Sigh.

I'm a writer. Writers write. When stereotypes are tossed around (self-published writers are __________; literary agents are __________), no one wins. Writers write.

I've almost finished the extended "Spider and I". At around 16,000 words, I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it. Maybe I'll make it available in e-format for free. Maybe I'll do my own art and try to sell a limited number of hand-made chapbooks. Maybe I'll send it to a dozen markets and receive a dozen rejection letters. I don't know. Yet. But I wrote it because it was a story I wanted to tell.

I do know (from "Spider and I"):

Night was coming, and Jack was afraid.

I'm off the soapbox and in the trenches. Writers write. Period.

WIP Wednesday: Hopes and Dreams

I'm on "tour" promoting Borrowed Saints (and writing in general) this week. Yesterday, I popped in to visit Cate Gardner and wrote about what was "Behind the Door". Today, I'm visiting Belinda Frisch's blog with a post about creating conflict and suspense. Stop in and say "hi". Tomorrow, I'll be leaning on Robert Swartwood with a little post about patience. God knows I need some.

More stops to follow.

So about this WIP Wednesday...

I'm writing a vampire-esque novella. I'm brainstorming for a middle grade (holy-sh*t, MG?) sci-fi, slipstreamy adventure book. My dear wife inspired me to write it, saying: "Why don't you write something Owen can read?" Yeah, why don't I?

And then there's the sequel to Borrowed Saints. Yes, I've already started writing that...

Sheesh. I'm starting to sound like Barry Napier with all this WIPing (love you, Barry).

Speaking of my dear wife... I want to share a dream of mine. I'd love for her to be able to stop working. She has terrible nerve issues in her mouse hand and a job which requires a ridiculous amount of clicking. She has back trouble stemming from a car accident when she was twenty.

I've taken on e-book formatting and cover design on the side (www.simplekindleformatting.com) to try and supplement our income. I'm continuing to write and hopefully build an audience. I'd love to add enough to the communal pot that she could stop working, or at least cut back and only see clients part time.

That's the dream.

Now that I've written it down, I need to get to work.